


Mundane

by enkelimagnus



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon verse, Deruning, Gen, Nightmare, Post 3x06, Season 3, mention of Luke Garroway - Freeform, mentions of the Lightwood family - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 17:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14477880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/pseuds/enkelimagnus
Summary: Maryse Lightwood struggles with her new status.





	Mundane

Alec’s eyes were glaring right into hers. Izzy was looking away, and Jace was snarling. Max wasn’t even there, probably with his father in LA, and not caring about her anymore. They all hated her, it was clear, from the way her oldest son’s voice was cold when he ordered she be strapped down onto the chair, in the middle of the ops room of the Institute. 

There was nowhere to hide, and no dignity, it was a nightmare, and she deserved it, she knew she deserved their hatred, their contempt, and the absence of her baby. 

Maryse was a monster. She was a monster, and she was going to be stripped off her room, stripped off her identity, ripped apart by demons the second she stepped out. And they wouldn’t care. Maybe they would even drink to her demise, those she’d once considered friends, and her children. 

She’d done everything wrong, from the day she’d said yes to being in valentine’s army, or maybe from the day she’s said yes to dating Robert, or maybe from the day she’d been born. Maybe being a Shadowhunter, being herself, Maryse Trueblood, Maryse Lightwood, was her mistake. 

Alec hated her because of Magnus, because of years she’d spent saying he needed to fight harder, be better. Izzy hated her because she’d never taken care of her daughter the right way. Jace hated her because she’d dared say he wasn’t family, when he was revealed as Valentine’s son, even if she’d known, she’d known all along who he was. Or who he was not. Max didn’t care about her, because she was distant and absentee, and too strict, too angry, too sad. 

The burn took her by surprise. It was excruciating. She screamed. It was worse than anything she’d ever felt. Worse than giving birth all those times, worse than being injured in battle, worse than getting the angelic rune burnt into your skin, worse than anything had felt before. 

It was like her body was on fire, and she closed her eyes, not wanting to look at what would probably be burnt flesh, because there was no way pain like this couldn’t leave trace. She was being deruned. And it got worse. 

She was being deruned. She was never going to be a Shadowhunter again. She was never going to walk through Alicante in summer, she was never going to scroll through layers of old accords books, she wouldn’t fight anymore. She was useless. Pathetic. Alone. 

She wanted to beg for a forgiveness she didn’t deserve, so she just screamed louder. She felt the Silent Brother moving away. The pain wasn’t stopping. She opened her eyes. Her children were gone. 

She looked down. 

Her runes were gone. There was no burn left behind. No trace. It was worse than if it had left scars. Because scars meant it had been real, she’d once been something she was proud to be, even if that pride had been a mistake. 

They were gone. She was mundane. She was alone. 

She opened her eyes, and around her everything was dark. The bed didn’t creak when she sat up, not like her bed at home. There wasn’t a sound in the room. 

She’d gotten used to sleeping alone years ago. She couldn’t remember the last time sleeping with someone wasn’t synonymous with bad sex and regrets. When was the last time anyone had even looked at her like she wasn’t worthless or a monster? 

Worthless. Monster. Mundane. 

Maryse ran a hand through her hair. It was a little damp from sweat. Her entire body was a little damp from sweat, she realized, from the nightmare that had shaken her awake. She stood up and dragged herself to the bathroom. 

She looked pale under the blaring light of the mirror, pale, tired and old, with dark circles under her eyes and a heaviness that she couldn’t shake off. She tried to keep her eyes from darting down to her skin, but they didn’t obey, and she caught herself staring at the smooth, unmarked expanse of skin of her throat. 

Gone. Memories and a life left behind. She hated being mundane, even if she knew she deserved this. She still wanted to scream at them to let her back in, to put the runes back, to make it all go away. How come she was alone and Robert had her son? 

Robert had taken Max, and she was alone. Alec had Magnus Bane, and she was alone. Izzy had her date Charlie, and her friends, and she was alone. Jace had Clary Fairchild, and she was alone. 

She reached for a wash cloth, wet it, and gave herself some kind of wash, at least to feel better than she felt right now. 

Lucian had left her a book, and his number, but her phone indicated it was 4am, and she knew that calling someone she was only starting to make amends to in the middle of the night was not polite. 

She sat down at the table of the kitchen. There was something strange in the atmosphere, that weird out-of-time feeling of 4am, and she knew she couln’t go back to sleep. So she took the book that was still on the table. 

She grabbed the pack of cigarettes that was next to it, sliding one into her mouth, and using the puppy-decorated lighter to light it. 

She hadn’t smoked in a long time, but right now, she didn’t know what to do. Once, it had been a trend in Idris, pretending to be mundane when she was in her twenties. Cigarettes were a thing. She’d smoked some. Played up some bad-girl status smoking gave her. 

When the sun came up, there was ash in the tray, and she’d almost finished the book.


End file.
